


Love Triangle

by thestarsaregivenonceonly



Category: Timmy Chalamet, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom, tim chalamet, tom holland - Fandom
Genre: F/M, timothee chalamet imagine, timothee imagine, tom holland blurb, tom holland imagine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26619574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsaregivenonceonly/pseuds/thestarsaregivenonceonly
Summary: Tom really likes you. But so does Timmy.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Reader, Timothée Chalamet/You, Tom Holland (Actor)/Reader, Tom Holland (Actor)/You, Tom Holland x Reader - Relationship, Tom Holland x You
Kudos: 26





	1. Tom and Tim

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr same username xx

Your dress was golden and so were you as you made your way into the ballroom, looking around at the groups of people around you. Sunday night, fresh from an award show, you pushed your hair back from your forehead and smiled as you made your way through the throngs, greeting everyone on the way. To the bar, then, as you looked around casually, or so you thought. It wasn’t long before he found you. 

“Hey,” Tom said with a cute smile, sitting next to you at the bar top. 

“Hiya.” 

“Can I buy you a drink?” It wasn’t the first time he had asked, and you had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last. It was obvious that he was interested in you, and you couldn’t help yourself; you liked him a lot. 

Nodding eagerly and turning to face him, you ordered a glass of wine, leaning back against the seat and flirting ostentatiously with him while you waited for the alcohol to arrive. When it did, you sipped it gratefully, closing your eyes. 

“Thank you, Tom.” 

“My pleasure,” he responded with a grin, his eyes on your lips. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to dive in, but you were scared. Something was holding you back, and you weren’t quite sure what it was. 

“Your new film is excellent, I just saw it about a week ago,” you said, swirling the wine around the glass. 

He looked genuinely surprised, his face flushing. “Thank you!” 

“Why do you look so shocked?” You giggled. 

“It’s just a huge compliment coming from you,” he said softly, so quiet that you had to lean in to hear him. 

For a moment you thought it might actually happen. Though you would have preferred to kiss him for the first time in private, the thrill of the night and the beginnings of alcohol in your blood were giving you other ideas. Biting his lip, he leaned in a bit further, but the bartender interrupted. 

“Another?” She asked, clearly not reading the situation. 

You both nodded, smiling warmly at her and trying to shake off the moment. As she moved away, you looked down at your glass, swallowing hard. What now? 

“Am I interrupting?” A voice from behind you, familiar yet not so much. 

Turning in your chair, you found yourself facing Timothee Chalamet, an actor you hadn’t met before but one you had been dying to work with. Green eyes bored into your soul as you gazed up at him, and your cheeks immediately flushed, a stutter escaping. 

“N-not at all!” You were totally starstruck, and, because of that, you completely missed the disgruntled expression on Tom’s face. 

“I just wanted to tell you how much I admire you,” Timmy said, beaming. “Your work is incredible, and I’d love to work with you someday.” 

Your heart was in your throat, and you glanced quickly at Tom to find that he was looking down into his drink. Guilt, strong and overwhelming, struck like lightning. 

“Thank you so much, Timothee. Likewise, honestly.” 

“Really?” He was beaming, and you couldn’t help but notice that his eyes darted briefly to your lips. How your face could flush deeper you didn’t know, but somehow it did. 

“Yes, you’re brilliant.” 

“You really are, dude,” Tom said suddenly, inserting himself into the conversation without warning. More guilt wormed in your stomach, and you suddenly found yourself glancing back and forth between the two of them. 

“Thanks, man,” Timmy said with a grin, placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Tom laughed quietly, but you could sense the tension. Whether Timothee was aware of it or not you didn’t know, but Tom was clearly not happy that he was there. Suddenly feeling very aware of yourself, you sipped your wine, unsure of what to do. 

“Are you guys… um…” Tim’s face went beet red, about as much as yours, before he finished his sentence. “Together?” 

“No!” You blurted far too quickly. Next to you, Tom seemed to sink down into his seat, and your heart ached. Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but there, stuck between the two of them. 

“Can I, uh, buy you a drink?” Tim asked, chewing on his lip. His eyes were on your mouth again, and you wondered how much time he had spent looking at it while watching your work. 

“Um, sure,” you said softly, nodding and smiling at him. 

Beaming, he sat down beside you, calling for the bartender to put your next drink on his tab. Knowing now that you were literally stuck between them, you turned to Tom to say something, to apologize, to make sure he was alright… 

But when you turned to face him, he was gone.


	2. the kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothee comes back to your hotel with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr same username xx

“Was it something I said?” Timothee asked, clearly clueless. 

“I don’t know,” you responded softly, deciding to play dumb. “I’m sure he’s alright, maybe he saw someone he knew.” 

Timmy nodded, spinning his drink with long fingers. “So I hear you signed up for a project with Luca.”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in excitement, leaning forward as you spoke. “I’m thrilled, I can’t wait to start.” 

“You know he’s looking for someone to play your lover,” he said, biting down on his lip. 

Fuck. You had nearly forgotten. Flirt? Don’t flirt? He was glancing at your lips again, and you couldn’t help yourself… you stared at his as well. A full, pink bottom lip. A strange urge to lean forward and bite it took over, and you had to lean back in your seat. His face flushed. 

“Are you going to audition?” You said bravely. 

“I was thinking about it,” he grinned, ordering you both another drink. You asked politely for a shot as well, and Tim raised his fingers in a gesture to make it two. 

“Luca loves you, he’d be all over that.” 

“I hear Tom is going for it,” he said quietly, and you knew he was gauging your reaction. You had heard the same, but only briefly. Anxiety, then, strong and suffocating, a heaviness in your chest that squeezed your lungs. 

“I heard that too.” 

The shots came, and you downed yours quickly before sipping more wine, knowing that the mixture of the two was probably not the best idea. Timothee smiled and watched you before drinking his own shot, making a cute, scrunched up face. 

“Fuck,” he laughed, setting the glass down. “That’s strong.” 

A rush, sudden and warm, you felt more gutsy by the second, your hand finding his thigh. He raised his eyebrows high, a goofy grin spreading across his beautiful face. 

“I think you’d be great,” you said honestly before moving your hand, running your fingers through your hair. 

He leaned closer, chewing on his lip again. Your eyes bounced between his mouth and his gaze, and you knew that he knew. Sitting close, you discussed the script for a bit, explaining certain parts to him, highlighting the character, speaking candidly about the love scenes and smiling when his face flushed deeper. You could tell he wanted the part badly, and you wanted to believe it was because of you. 

“Another?” The bartender appeared suddenly, nodding to the shot glasses.

Feeling tipsy and wanting to be comfortably drunk, you nodded eagerly. Turning to Tim, you put your hand on his leg again. “Thank you.” 

“For?” 

“The drinks.” 

“Of course,” he said softly, his hand finding yours over his thigh. The touch was electric and full of heat, and you swallowed hard, desperately trying to keep yourself from kissing him. “Do you have a script?” 

The question came seemingly out of nowhere, but you had a suspicion as to where he was going with it. “Yes.” 

“Can I um… look at it? With you?” 

“Of course,” you nodded quickly, swaying in your seat. He giggled, a melodious and gorgeous sound. 

“Can I come to your hotel?” Apparently both of you were feeling brave. 

“Sure,” you replied, hopping unsteadily from the chair and almost falling down.

He laughed and paid the tab, standing next to you and waiting for you to gain your balance. Sensing that he wanted to touch you and knowing it was much too soon for that, you led the way out of the room and into a long, wide hallway that would lead to the exit. Praying, praying fervently that you wouldn’t see Tom and knowing it was inevitable, you found him near the door, nursing a cocktail and talking to a friend. His face lit up when he saw you, but then quickly fell as Timothee approached from behind. 

“Hi, beautiful,” Tom said with confidence, winking at you. “Leaving?” 

“I’m gonna show Timmy my script!” You declared, drunk and happy. 

“Can you show me too, sometime?” 

“Of course!” You replied without thinking, a small voice in your head screaming that you were going to regret the response later on. 

Timothee shifted behind you, clearing his throat. You turned to face him and nodded quickly. Tom said an awkward goodbye, his eyes on your lips again, and then you were outside, searching for your driver. Timmy stood close, waiting with you for a few moments until you spotted the car. Getting inside with him, you buckled up, noticing that he sat close rather than on the opposite side of the car. Alcohol was governing your choices, but you found that you didn’t care. Being with him was like a high, he was so fucking beautiful, and the urge to kiss him was growing by the second. But there was Tom, in the back of your mind, smiling and creating a sense of guilt that wormed in the pit of your stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Timothee broke through your thoughts. 

“Yes,” you said with a smile, leaning into him playfully. “Just drunk.” 

“Me too,” he giggled, nudging you back. 

The ride was short, the hotel golden and bright, a mirrored elevator and a long, dazzling hallway. Once inside your room, you dug around your things for the script, pushing your hair out of your face. He stood and waited patiently until you found it and handed it to him, standing back up. 

“Thank you,” he said drunkenly, sitting clumsily on the edge of your bed and flipping quickly through the pages. 

Silence, then, for a time while he started from the beginning and scanned a bit more thoroughly, concentration scrunching his eyebrows together. You couldn’t help yourself, watching him with fascination as he read. Eventually he looked up at you, beaming. 

“I really want this part,” he said softly, setting the script aside. 

“Really?”

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

His grin grew even wider, and he patted the bed, motioning for you to sit beside him. Eagerly moving to do so, you got comfortable and turned to face him, waiting for a response. 

“I want to work with you. I want to work with Luca again. The character fascinates me, I like the story, it’s well written, it seems challenging.” His face flushed as he realized he was rambling a bit. “I get to kiss you, and I think that’s just a plus.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk,” you slurred, leaning into him. You felt so strangely comfortable and safe with him, as if you’d known him for a long time. Whether this was actual comfort or the alcohol you weren’t sure, but drunk you didn’t care in the moment. 

“That’s not true,” he said softly, watching you carefully. You wondered if he was this direct all the time, wearing his heart on his sleeve. 

The urge to kiss him was overwhelming now, and you wanted to give in, leaning in, your eyes fluttering. He met you the rest of the way, his lips soft and gentle against yours. You stayed still for a few seconds, his hand moving up to cup your cheek. 

What am I doing? It felt so… right. 

He began to slowly move his mouth, kissing you tenderly, one finger tracing slowly down your neck. You kissed him back, hand on his thigh, heat growing between you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was practicing for the script and nothing more, but when his tongue traced your bottom lip you lost yourself completely, opening your mouth to kiss him deeply. 

It was then that your phone rang. 

Jumping violently, you broke apart, Timothee nearly falling off the bed. Giggling profusely, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek without thinking before digging through your purse for your phone. Pulling it out, you almost gasped aloud, his name staring up at you on the screen. Tom.


End file.
